Monthly Archives: May 2010

I’m beside the empty gate counters of Saipan’s airport. Totally empty. It’s 6:20pm but it looks more like 3:22am in terms of human activity. Even the guards by the security check point are nowhere to be found. This place smells like the old Topanga mall before it became nice.

Of the many times I’ve been here, I always seem to forget that they close the counters for a good solid hour before the flight back to Guam that only takes 50 minutes. Then I get flashbacks that this isn’t the only time I’ve been shuttered out from the 40 seater prop plane, which apparently needs to get controlled by border control and customs so much that you need to lounge around longer than you conceivably should together with all 8 passengers of the entire flight. And so here I am.

I’m just incredibly tired. Been busting my ass to get a project completed, and although I’ve been here for several days, it was barely enough for me to have a clear conscience leaving certain things (outside of my control) to piece themselves together. Whatever. I left work at 4am yesterday after pulling an almost 20 hour shift. Feels great to feel pain once in a while.

This morning after checking out, I went to the back of the hotel and realized that it is a very picturesque coastline, very muted and clean. To think of it, this island might actually be more of my liking than more developed places. It exudes a very provincial feel, with a sense of struggle from its very existence that makes it appear more real rather than constructed. I just had a miserable time trying to sleep because I kept imagining Japanese and American soldiers and civilians spilling blood from the horrors of WWII. Horrible. No thanks, suicide mountain!

The only thing that is bothering me right now aside from a potential change ticket fee, is the fact that I’m most likely going to miss an amazing sunset from the air. Ugh.

The best part is accomplishing something that senior tech support says cannot be done.

I am always quick to jump into the foxholes in an attempt to accomplish something that I think can and should be done in the name of efficiency, but I usually get carried away on the details, with detriment. Yet in the rare occasions that I stand my ground and make it worth having 40 tabs open on Google Chrome (EAFS and HTPS file systems, SCO Unix, SCSI controllers, jejemons), its almost comic relief to realise that I am possibly not that insane. Perhaps inefficient in coming across the winning formula, but still a win nonetheless.

I would gloss over the details, but I think it might cause me to throw up. Another long day tomorrow. Heeeell yeeaaaah, bring it!

I need to take a break. I miss my sidekick who understands what its like to explore what’s out there, and is never afraid to get lost with me as I am apt to. (Although she will discreetly let you know that we’ve been through this route before, but that’s besides my point.) I really need to get out, get dirty, and know the world a little closer, away from this damn compooper.

One can only take the dreary consistencies of routine so far, before starting to babble helplessly like an idiot. I feel like I just keep waiting. And waiting. Wait.

I’m sure you cats have experienced that feeling when you’re just about over a mini-tragedy, and have come to accept it for what it is. And then some twist of fate quietly slaps you in the face, and you realize that there may be a shining solution to your tragedy, that the terrible can be turned inside-out into something truly amazing. And you try your best to keep your feet on the ground as you slowly retrace your steps in order to fully evaluate the situation. It all boils down to that one moment when you find out the truth.

Time slows down to a crawl and the world outside your peripheral vision ceases to exist. And as your heart swells with anticipation and hope, it gets slayed wide fucking open by a small technicality, a small truth that destroys the very fabric of your day.

Count till ten, and the world is still the same as it was thirty seconds ago. And in a twisted way, that’s a really good thing.

I was about to take a massive dump when a big brown Chamorro Cockroach greeted me in the corner of the toilet.

I ran to the kitchen to grab a can of Raid I bought last trip, and pointed warily at the bugger. As soon as that mystic white cloud hit the mark, it ran like a bat out of hell towards me, outside across the hallway and into my bedroom, fluttering its wings in preparation to wreak havoc before dying an ignominious death. It hung out under the bed for a few seconds before disappearing into the dark crevices of the night, probably waiting for me to fall asleep and crawl into my mouth.

Now my prairie dogs are back in the pad, the turtle is back in the shell, the kids are away from the pool. What a total mood killer. FML.

Yesterday’s marathon started 2pm at best friend Cyrus’s house, where I met baby Via for the first time and proceeded to polish off their baby Heiny keg and a case and a half of San Mig light with his brother in law and friends. After replacing my blood with alcohol after 8 full hours of drinking, I took a quick shower and headed out to Establishment with the conyo crowd for TFlo’s birthday bash, and joked about my life long dream to appear in the society pages with Maurice Arcache. True enough, he was there! Other highlights were catching up with Ramon and Karlo Miguel, and capped it out when TFlo and ate Mia introduce me to the concert queen Pops Fernandez. Party till 4am, just like how Manila does it.

I dropped off Kate at LAX for her flight back to Manila, and headed to Singaporean Express (LMU-era comfort food) in Marina del Rey and proceed to polish off my Nasi Goreng.

Just as I crack my fortune cookie open, Kate calls and says her flight got cancelled. As she’s asking me if she can stay for the rest of the weekend, I pull out my fortune which reads: “Luck will be yours when you least expect it.”

Today’s lesson number one. When working with filtered columns in Excel, doing a “Paste Value” will also plow over the hidden rows. Which you won’t see until you unfilter the column. Hurrah!

Today’s lesson number two. When you save a document right after doing something incredibly awesome, it wipes out the Undo cache which makes it impossible for you to get back to the version before saving it. Hooray!

Sundays mean that Monday is coming. So you try to squeeze in as much as you can out of the weekend.

Sort of like finding out that you’ve been slacking your entire life, and realize that you need to get out of all your comfort zones before it traps you into the inescapable void of your typical. Any drastic action should still be weighed against the occasion, but with so much to lose, why drown in the details? Everything to venture, everything to gain.